


By the End of the Day

by BoudicaMuse



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 05:41:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3345632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoudicaMuse/pseuds/BoudicaMuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy interrupts Clarke masturbating and then like any good friend would, offers to lend a hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By the End of the Day

**Author's Note:**

> That last episode was some other shit and yesterday was just a terrible day on a personal level, so I wrote myself a modern au pwp to make myself feel better. Hope it helps anyone else out there who just cannot deal with the canon right now. 
> 
> Title from A Little Help From My Friends by The Beatles because I have a terrible sense of humor.

The door swung closed behind Clarke and she heaved a sigh of relief to finally be home. Octavia would be at work for another three hours and would probably drag her out to a bar later to celebrate the end of the semester. She'd just finished her last final and was definitely in need of a night out, but she was glad to have some alone time first. She needed to shake off the stress of the past couple of weeks and decompress. 

Toeing out of her boots and tearing off her coat and scarf, Clarke headed straight for the kitchen and poured herself a large glass of wine. She leaned against the counter and allowed herself to just breathe for a minute while she savored it. The run up to finals that semester had been especially hectic, but she was positive that all her hard work had paid off and she had aced all of them. Unless she was being overconfident and had actually bombed... No. She was not going to let herself get caught up in that train of thought. She needed music. Loud, obnoxious pop music that would block out any dangerous thoughts about how she might have just failed all of her classes.

Playlist chosen, Clarke put her phone in the speaker dock in the living room and turned up the volume until the music filled the whole apartment. Much better. She did a little dance across the living room and smiled to herself as an idea came to her. The only thing that could make her afternoon of freedom even better was copious orgasms. She headed for her room and stripped off her tights and underwear, kicking them in the direction of her closet and laying down on the bed with a little bounce. She retrieved her trusty vibrator, a smallish pink silicone one she'd bought herself last Christmas, from the drawer in her bedside table, her thighs already squeezing together in anticipation. Settling back against the pillows, Clarke laid the vibrator on the bed next to her, preferring to get things started with her hands. 

She slid one hand teasingly up her inner thigh and under her skirt, coming just shy of brushing against the soft curls between her legs before moving down toward her knee again. Her other hand caressed the swell of her breast, squeezing herself gently through her sweater. She kept that up for a while, just letting herself sink into the fuzzy warmth of her arousal. After a minute or so, she sat up and stripped off her sweater and worked her bra off through an armhole of her tank top. Her nipples were already hard and pressing against the thin material of her shirt and she scraped a thumb nail across one, letting out a small gasp of pleasure and laying back against the pillows once again. She circled it with her fingers, loving the rasp of the fabric against her sensitive skin. Her other hand finally ventured up to slide along the lips of her cunt, delving briefly inside to test her wetness and she wasn't surprised to find that she was already dripping wet. She flicked her middle finger against her clit and her back arched involuntarily off the mattress. 

Feeling ready for a little more stimulation, she picked up the vibrator and twisted the base. She started on the lowest setting and pressed it against her clit. The pleasant hum was nice, even nicer when she moved her toy back and forth over her clit, mimicking the motions she made when she got herself off with her hands. She squeezed one breast in her hand, enjoying the weight of it against her palm before returning her attention to her nipples, rubbing and pinching them in turns. 

She wasn't really thinking about anyone in particular, just reveling in the sensations and letting the stress from finals float away. Though the more her mind wandered, the more it supplied vague images of an anonymous lover to help her on her way. She pictured large hands with long, tapered fingers on her breasts and soft lips against her neck. A warm weight along her side and teasing touches trailing down her rib cage and stomach. 

Twisting the base again, Clarke set the vibrations to just under the highest setting. She gasped at the sudden increase in intensity and moved the vibrator away from her clit and let it dip into her cunt, teasing her entrance before pushing it further inside until she could feel it pulsing against her g-spot. Her toes curled against the comforter and her eyes closed in pleasure. Drawing one knee up and out, she pumped the vibrator in and out of her cunt slowly and circled the fingers of her other hand around her clit in tight, fast movements. 

Her imagination supplied more defined images of a partner now. She thought of his cock first. She wanted something thicker and longer than what was currently between her legs, her body craving the fullness she hadn't felt for real in months. It had been far longer than she'd like to admit since she had something that wasn't battery powered between her legs. She pictured warm, tanned skin and well-muscled arms braced on either side of her head. And since she was already picturing her roommate’s brother’s body as clearly as she could without ever having seen him naked, Clarke went ahead and filled in the rest of his features in her mind. His expressive brown eyes and messy dark curls, the smattering of freckles over his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. She imagined a hot intensity in his eyes as he thrusted into her, her hand mimicking the movements with her vibrator. 

She was close, so close, and her eyelids fluttered open, blinking unseeingly at the ceiling before glancing down at her body watch her hands. 

And screamed. Sadly, not in pleasure. 

"Shit! Shit, I'm sorry!" Said the man in the doorway. The door that she had regrettably left wide open when she decided to come pleasure herself. And the man? None other than the man of her dirtiest fantasies, her roommate's brother. Of fucking course. 

"Bellamy, what the fuck?!" Clarke screeched, hurriedly switching her vibrator off, stuffing it under a pillow, and pushing her skirt down. 

"I just came by to drop Octavia's book off, I swear to god. She said I could let myself in. I didn't exactly expect you to be doing that." He peeked between his fingers and when he saw she was more or less decent, dropped his hand from his eyes. "Didn't you hear me come in?"

Clarke stared at him disbelievingly and flicked her eyes toward the living room, where her phone was still blasting music and Ke$ha was singing about dying young. "No!"

"Christ. Look, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to stare. You were just so fucking _hot_." He muttered the last part so low that Clarke barely caught it. 

Bellamy looked just as flushed and embarrassed as she felt and Clarke looked down at her hands twisting in her lap. God, she was never going to be able to be in the same room with him without turning bright red ever again. 

"Anyway, I'll just go and let you get back to..." He trailed off and when Clarke looked up, his eyes were wide and fixed on the bare skin of her legs. 

"Yeah, not much point now." He looked up at her questioningly and Clarke shrugged, blushing even harder. "It just kind of takes me a long time. It's fine."

Bellamy opened his mouth as if to say something, swallowed and looked away. He looked back at her sideways and huffed out a quiet laugh. "Well if you need a hand," he offered with a wry grin. 

A surprised laugh bubbled out of her and his grin widened. Clarke felt some of the tension bleed out of the room as they shared a smile. For a second she even let herself pretend his offer was sincere. He looked amazing as usual, even bundled up against the early December cold in a pea coat and scarf. He couldn't have meant it though. It was ridiculous to even think he might be interested in her. As the seconds dragged on, though, his smile dropped and he started to turn away. 

"Wait. Were you serious?" Clarke asked. 

"Uh," Bellamy rubbed the back of his neck and darted a look up at her through his eyelashes. "If you want, yeah. But if you want me to get the hell out of here and pretend this never happened, I can do that too. Whatever you want."

Clarke suddenly felt a little dizzy with the possibilities. Whatever she wanted. She had a whole list of things she wanted from him, but never dared think she could actually have them. Bellamy and Octavia were close, like really close, so he was always around. Whether it was helping them with repairs they didn't want to bother their landlord with or taking Octavia out to lunch and inviting Clarke along, not a single week went by that he wasn’t stopping by their apartment. Every time Clarke saw him, he was doing yet another thing to prove what a perfect big brother and all around decent human being he was. He even volunteered with an inner city youth program once a month. Since he was around so often, Clarke was powerless to ignore how attractive he was, too. She had given it about a month after meeting him before she finally just admitted to herself that yeah, she had it bad for Bellamy Blake. The only thing that had stopped her from going for it was that he seemed to think Clarke was just another little sister to tease and indulge. He certainly wasn’t looking at her like a little sister now, though. 

"I want you to come here," Clarke said slowly. "And close the door."

The heat that flared in Bellamy's gaze was palpable and he kept his eyes on hers as he obeyed her commands, shedding his scarf and coat as he came closer. He sat facing her on the bed and reached out to brush his thumb over her knee. That small touch went straight to her core and she breathed in sharply.

"You sure?" He said, his voice low and rough. 

Clarke shivered minutely and nodded, her heart hammering in her chest. “Yeah, are you?” she asked. 

She didn’t bother to hide her doubt from her face and voice. He reached out and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and his eyes drifted down to her lips. Clarke swayed forward, sure he was about to kiss her, but his hand dropped from her face and the moment was broken. 

"Lay back," he said. 

His intent look almost soothed her disappointment at the lost chance of finally feeling his lips on hers. Maybe this was better, though, kept things clearer. This wasn't the start of a relationship, this was just sex. Just a friend helping out another friend. It wasn't exactly what she had been hoping for, but it was still more than she ever expected to get. Clarke fell back against the pillows and watched Bellamy dip his head to press a soft kiss to the spot on her knee his hand had touched. She stifled a whimper against her hand and he grinned wickedly at her, the corner of his mouth still pressed against her skin. 

"Don't try and be quiet on my account, Princess."

Clarke groaned at the stupid nickname and kicked at his chest. "Are you gonna make me come, or what?"

"Of course you're pushy in bed. Why did I think this would be any different than the rest of your life?" Bellamy said with an eye roll. 

Clarke's retort dried in her throat when he moved her leg aside and shouldered under it. He nuzzled at the inside of her thigh and gripped the back of her knee firmly with his large, warm hand. She had had dreams about his hands and now here they were, touching her and rubbing circles into her skin. His lips inched further up the inside of her thigh, just a hint of stubble scraping against her skin. 

_Holy fuck, he's going down on me_ , Clarke thought. 

He flipped her skirt up, exposing her to his eyes once more, and ran his knuckles down the crease of her leg. He was so, so close to where she wanted him, but not close enough. A whine escaped her throat and he chuckled low and deep. 

"Patience, Princess."

It wasn't fair. After this, she was going to get wet any time he used that damned nickname. It was going to be really inconvenient, she could already tell. 

"Come on, Bell, please."

His grip on her leg tightened for a second, but then he ducked his head and finally put his mouth to her cunt, licking a long, slow stripe over her folds before swirling around her clit. She gasped and arched against his mouth and he pushed back, curling an arm under her leg and over her hips, his hand wide and sure over her pelvis.

“So fucking pushy, I swear,” he muttered.

He slowly pushed two fingers inside of her and sucked hard on her clit. Her growl of frustration turned into a loud moan as he crooked them and rubbed at the same spot she had been hitting with her vibrator earlier. She had been so close to coming before he surprised her and now he was bringing her back to the edge so fast she was practically shaking with need. Her hand twisted uselessly in the bedclothes, feeling the need for something to anchor her. She grabbed at the hand he had pressed flat against her pelvis and tangled their fingers together and the need eased a little, letting her relax just enough that she no longer felt like she was caught in a riptide. He flicked his tongue over her clit rapidly, never letting up the pressure with his fingers and soon Clarke was coming with a wordless shout, gripping his hand tightly in hers.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, her heart pounding in her chest, but looked back at him when she felt his hands pull away from her. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and smirked down at her.

“That didn’t take very long. Maybe you’re not doing it right on your own,” he said with mocking concern.

“Ha ha. You’re hilarious.” 

Clarke sat up and put her hand on his knee. The line of his erection formed a large and obvious bulge in his pants. It looked pretty uncomfortable. She reached out and ran her finger lightly down the length of it, arching her eyebrow at him questioningly.

“Are you going to let me help you with that?” She asked, brushing her thumb across the tip of his cock and giving him a teasing grin.

“Whatever you want,” he said.

His voice was rough and deeper than usual and when she cupped him through his jeans he let out a slow and shaky breath. They both watched her hand as she rubbed over the trapped length of his cock. He felt long and thick in her palm, just like she had been picturing earlier, and she knew exactly what she wanted.

“I really want you inside of me,” she said. She bit down on her lip, wishing she had phrased it a little more delicately, but when she met his hot, dark eyes, it was clear he didn’t mind.

“Condom?” he asked.

“Yeah, hang on, I--” Clarke had turned away to retrieve one from her nightstand and when she turned back, the words died in her throat.

While her back was turned he’d taken off his shirt and now he was trying to simultaneously undo his belt and step out of his shoes. Clarke stared at all of the gorgeous, bronzed skin he’d just revealed and watched, open-mouthed as he pushed down his jeans and boxers, revealing even more, his cock bobbing in the air now that it was freed. He didn’t look back at her until he was completely naked, seemingly unconcerned with her reaction and unashamed of his nudity. When he did finally look at her, he smirked at her frozen state and gestured to her clothes.

“You going to join me, or did you just want to look for a while?”

Honestly, she was a little torn. Not only did she want to keep looking so she could memorize every glorious inch of his body, she had the sudden and overwhelming urge to paint him. Her fingers itched to reach for her sketchbook. But no, she had to focus. Sex now, paint later. Before she could lose her nerve or get distracted again, she quickly lost the rest of her clothes and reached for him, pulling him onto the bed with her. 

He hovered over her, braced on his hands and knees. His face was so close to hers and she couldn't help but watch as he licked his lips, her own tongue darting out to unconsciously echo the movement. God, she wanted to kiss him. Why weren't they doing that, again? What the hell, she decided. He kept telling her he'd do whatever she wanted. Right now she wanted his mouth on hers. 

She pulled his head down and he responded enthusiastically, licking into her mouth and cradling the back of her head to pull her closer. He kissed her with single-minded determination, each press and slide of his lips over hers slow and heady and deliberate, like _this_ was the main event. She kissed him back with the full realization that she may never get another chance, which was a pity because now that she'd started, she never wanted to stop. 

Her hands wandered freely over his chest and back, trying to map the hills and valleys of his body by touch. His skin was smooth and warm under her fingers. She trailed her hands down over his abs and smiled against his lips at his sharp inhale and the way he pushed against her hands, silently demanding a firmer touch over what was apparently a ticklish spot. 

The tip of his cock brushed against her knuckles and Clarke reached for it, taking him in hand with a firm grip. He thrust into her fist and tore his mouth away from hers only to drop wet, sucking kisses in a line down her throat. 

"Ready for me, Princess?" He murmured against her skin. 

She swallowed thickly and nodded. God, she was so ready. He felt heavy and thick and velvety soft in her hand and she couldn't wait to feel him inside of her, filling her up the way she so desperately wanted. 

Bellamy reached for the condom and sat back on his heels to roll it on. Then he was back over her, pressing into her, so agonizingly slowly. She hooked a leg over his waist and thrust back against him, sighing happily once he was fully inside her. He smirked down at her and arched an eyebrow. 

"That's how it's gonna be, huh?" He said. 

"It will be if you don't do your job and _fuck me_." She punctuated her sentence with a forceful roll of her hips. 

"Yes, ma'am." 

He smiled sharply and hiked her leg up over his arm. Then he pulled out of her almost all the way before driving back into her hard and fast. The new angle and the force of his thrust had Clarke seeing stars and she gasped. His smirk was far too self-congratulatory and Clarke leaned up to kiss the look off his face. She wrapped her other leg high around his waist and met him thrust for thrust. At this angle, he hit her g-spot on every stroke and soon Clarke was moaning loudly, her kisses turning sloppy and distracted. Her legs trembled around him and her hands clutched at his shoulders with the need come. She was close, but she couldn’t quite get there and her nails raked over Bellamy’s back in frustration. 

He gave her one last biting kiss, before pulling back, his rhythm faltering while he readjusted their positions. He braced one hand on the bed next to her and let her leg fall to the side as he brought his other hand to her clit. Clarke’s chest heaved with the effort to just breathe while he thrust into her, slow and steady, his thumb rubbing tight circles on her clit. She felt pinned there by his dark-eyed stare, the heat in his gaze intense and unwavering. Her eyes slid shut practically in defense, too overwhelmed by the feeling of her body spiraling closer and closer to orgasm to deal with the way he was looking at her as well. 

“No, no. Come on, Princess. Open your eyes,” Bellamy said.

Clarke groaned, her hands twisting in the comforter, but she complied, her eyes fluttering open and meeting his. His mouth was wet and red from all their kisses and she desperately wanted to feel his lips on hers again, but couldn’t reach up to connect them without screwing up their rhythm. She bit down on her bottom lip instead. Close, she was so close.

“God, you are so beautiful. Come on, Clarke. Come for me.”

Almost as if she was waiting for the command, she came, his name on her lips and her entire body shaking with the force of it. He cupped her face in his hand and kissed her sweetly while she came down and then with a few more fast, hard thrusts into her, he was coming too. His breath rushed out harshly against her lips and Clarke brushed his messy curls back from his sweaty temple, her fingers carding through his hair while he calmed down. He kissed her one more time before pulling out of her and standing to ditch the condom in the wastebasket under her desk. 

He sat down on the edge of the bed and linked their hands, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. Clarke was not looking forward to whatever came out of his mouth next. Probably something along the lines of, _thanks for the fuck, Princess, but let’s never speak of this again, especially to Octavia._

“So I’m thinking shower, then you let me take you out for a cup of coffee,” Bellamy said. 

Clarke sat up and raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Really? You’re not going to just pretend this never happened?”

“Is that what you want?” Bellamy frowned and he withdrew his hand from hers. 

Clarke grabbed for his hand and brought it to her mouth to press a kiss to his knuckles. 

“No, coffee sounds great. I just wasn’t expecting you to be interested in anything more. I wasn’t expecting you to be interested at all,” she said.

“And here I thought you were smart,” he said, before kissing her so thoroughly she couldn’t remember to be offended by his words. 

They did eventually get to that coffee, but only after they had to explain to Octavia why they were showering together at four in the afternoon.


End file.
